Cold And Hot Are Antonyms
by arandomshipper
Summary: Companion to Hot And Cold Aren't Antonyms.


A/N: This a prequel/sequel/companion fic to Hot And Cold Aren't Antonyms, taking place before, during and after the events of that story, from Elsa's POV. The format for most chapters will be: 1) action sequence, taking place during Elsa's time at Frozen Assets, followed by 2) downtime with Elsa and Kristoff, concluding with 3) flashback to Elsa's childhood.

 **Cold And Hot Are Antonyms**

"Elsa! Behind you!"

Elsa did not pause in the vicious dismantling of the three NS-5's before her, fluidly working a no-look headshot at the one approaching from the rear into her attacks.

"I told you, I don't need you to watch my back. I knew he was there. Watch your own back, Stinky." Elsa shot a glance at her partner, followed by two shots from her Mk II Lawmaker, one for each NS-5 trying to flank Kristoff.

Kristoff did not spare a glance for the robots dispatched by his partner, but slammed the remaining NS-5 into the wall, ripped its arms off, and smashed its head with them. "Whatever. I had em. They weren't even armed."

Dr. Lanning watched all of this from his safe corner with wide eyes. "Um. You know that each NS-5 is roughly ten times stronger and more durable than a human, don't you? And that their reaction and movement speed are more than double the fastest ever recorded?"

"Yeah? So?" Kristoff asked curiously.

"...Who are you people? And how did you even know to be here right now?"

"Frozen Assets." Kristoff replied. Elsa holstered her weapon and ignored them both, examining the remains of the robots she had destroyed. "We clean up messes. Like accidentally creating artificial intelligence with the ability and inclination to overthrow humanity. As far as how we knew what we know, I don't know and I don't care. That's for the intelligence division to figure out. I just follow orders."

"I see. Well, as grateful as I am for saving my life, you haven't really accomplished much yet. Until we take down V.I.K.I., she can simply keep making more NS-5's, endlessly. Not to mention the ones you've dispatched here are but a fraction of those already created, which are surely guarding her core. You two have proven highly capable, but I doubt you could make it through that army."

A robotic but vaguely female face appeared on the gigantic screen overlooking the room. "THE DOCTOR IS RIGHT. YOUR EFFORTS ARE MEANINGLESS. RESISTENCE IS FUTILE. SURRENDER IS THE ONLY LOGICAL OUTCOME."

"Is that so." Kristoff said lazily. "Well, I'm not too big on logic, to tell you the truth. Let me check with the local expert. Elsa? What do you think? Do we surrender?"

Elsa's only response was to put the finishing touches on the chest piece of the robot she was working on. And electronomatic wave burst from it, causing V.I.K.I.'s face to distort.

"WHA-WHA-WHAttttttt HA-HA-HAVE Y-YoU D-DDDdddddDD-D-D-D-"

The robot sat up. Elsa pulled a canister out of her leg pouch and handed it to the NS-5. "Take this, inject it into V.I.K.I.'s brain, and deactivate."

Dr. Lanning stared at her, whitefaced. "You just overrode and replaced V.I.K.I.'s control signal from the opposite end in the space of about two minutes? It would have taken me months to do something like that, and I'm the world's foremost expert on robotic software! How..."

"I spent a couple of weeks theory crafting on the subject." Elsa said distantly. She pulled out her com unit. "Target neutralized. Area clear. Send in the cleaners."

Kristoff slapped her back, staggering her. She whipped her head around to glare at him. "Another day, another job. Hittin' the bar after debrief, as usual. Join me for a few?" He said in a resigned tone.

There was a long, long pause. Off in the distance, V.I.K.I let out a death scream. Finally, Elsa responded. "Okay."

"Fine, it's your loss." Kristoff said with the voice of someone who has said the phrase many, many times over the years. "Wait, what? Seriously?"

"You asked." Elsa said irritably.

"Well, yeah, but you always say no so I just assumed...really?"

"Are you trying to get me to take it back?"

"No! No, no! I'll...see you for drinks later then?"

 **EAEAEAEA**

Kristoff took a seat at the Frozen Assets company bar. "Hit me up, Sven!" The mute bartender slid an unopened bottle down the bar, where Kristoff caught it in one hand, flipped it behind his back and over his opposite shoulder to catch it in the other, pulled out an opener, popped the cap, and took a swig in one smooth motion. He glanced at Elsa settling into the stool next to his. "Wow, you actually showed. What's your drink?"

"I don't do alcohol."

"Well. That explains a lot." Kristoff said with a grimace. "Just get her a Shirley Temple, Sven."

"I don't do sugar."

"Dear God, woman! What is wrong with you?! Get her a freaking ice water, Sven."

A half-smile appeared on Elsa's face as Sven handed her an ice water. Kristoff took a bigger swig and sighed happily. "Ahhh. Nothing like a good beer to finish off the day, eh?" Elsa took a modest sip of her water. Kristoff eyed her sideways. "Not for you, I guess. So you don't drink."

Elsa's face tightened. "I don't like anything that inhibits my ability to...think."

"I can understand that." Kristoff nodded. "But sometimes you need to turn your brain off for a while. Especially when you've got a job like ours. And there's the social aspect, too. Sven here is my best buddy, right Sven?" Sven waved and smiled at Kristoff. "I come here as much to hang with him as to drink. It's a basic human neccessity. I'm as introverted as they come, and even I need one or two close friends, someone to socialize with once in a while." He sent another sideways glance at Elsa. "And then there's you."

They went back to drinking in silence for a time. Kristoff broke the silence with a chuckle. Elsa gave him a curious look. "Oh, I was just thinking. It's ironic. We went up against Artificial Intelligence today. That was a new one. But the crazy thing is, I think you're more robotic than any of those robots we fought. You're nothing but pure logic and efficiency. V.I.K.I. was closer to being human than you are."

Elsa nodded slowly. "It's easier that way."

Kristoff was momentarily surprised that she spoke. "Is it?" She nodded again. "What is?"

Elsa gave a long sigh, drained her glass, and stood up, leaving Kristoff with her answer. "Everything."

 **EAEAEAEA**

Elsa was a strange child. It was apparent right from infancy. Exactly how strange she was, and in what ways she was unusual would be difficult to pin down, precisely, but for one trait that would become more and more obvious as one spent more time with her.

She never cried. Not when she was hungry, not when she was tired, not when she was uncomfortable, not even when her mother accidently dropped a heavy book on her hand, bruising it terribly. Never. It made things very difficult for her parents. Caring for a child that tells you nothing of its needs is not easy, but it was only a precursor to the strangeness that would become apparent as she grew.

Elsa never laughed. As babies approach the one-year mark, it is common for them to enjoy games like peek-a-boo, and her parents were looking forward to interacting with their first child in such ways, but she had no interest. Not only did she not laugh at their attempts, she did not even deign to give them her attention, simply looking around at anything and everything else with a blank expression.

A blank expression that never changed. As she approached and passed the two-year mark, her parents became very concerned. She showed no interest in talking, or walking, or playing, or any of the normal things a child would have been doing long before now They thought that she must surely be mentally disabled, so they took her to experts of all kinds. Neurologists, psychologists, and all kinds of pediatrists. It was futile. No one could tell them anything, except that she seemed normal physically. They despaired of ever finding the answer, until one day they were driving home from an appointment, and they heard a voice say, "Stop taking me to see these idiots. It's a waste of time."

They whipped their heads around to stare at their daughter, who had just spoken her first words. She stared back at them with that same disinterested look. For the sake of their sanity, they convinced themselves that they were hearing things, but they stopped taking her to be examined all the same.

Over the years, her parents more or less got used to her unusual existence. She ignored them, they ignored her, unless there was some compelling reason for interaction. Like when she was old enough to go to school.

Parent/teacher meetings were a constant once Elsa started school. She ignored her teacher and classmates the same way she had ignored her parents, and never did any homework. After being told she was in danger of expulsion, Elsa's mother begged her to just blend in and stop making so many problems. Elsa simply looked at her mother for a long moment and said, "Okay." From then on she did enough of the assignments to keep the teachers happy and interacted superficially with the other students. On the outside, she was just another kid. Only her parents knew that it was all an act.

Until she was seven years old. Her parents were terrified of having more children after the way Elsa had turned out, so they had been using condoms, but condoms fail. Elsa's mother became pregnant again. At seven years old, Elsa was ushered into the hospital room by a doctor, where her mother, wearing the biggest smile of her entire life, was holding her brand new crying little sister. When she saw Elsa, her face lost some of its joy, but she turned her body to display the addition to the family anyway. "What do you think of your new baby sister, Elsa?" Her mother asked without much hope.

And as Elsa laid eyes on that baby, that baby with the tuft of red hair bawling its little eyes out, she felt things she had never felt before. So many, many things. Things she had no names for. Things she could figure out the names for if she wanted, but she refused to, because she did not like this feeling of things that was happening. And that gave rise to the first emotion she felt that she would actually acknowledge. Annoyance.

"Ugly."


End file.
